The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 230: The Demolition Expert]

In Burbank, a very ordinary Cadillac cruised down the street and turned into a nearby multi-story parking garage. The car drove up to the top level and parked.

Hawke, who was wearing makeup, but still seated inside the car, picked up binoculars to observe the Burbank Hotel across the street. Edward, also with make up, pointed to the top floor of the hotel. "Douglas is staying in the only luxurious business suite. Betty is trying to sneak in as a hotel staff member, while Carlos and Juan have disguised themselves as guests, temporarily staying on the floor below."

It was almost certain that one of Douglas's objectives during this visit was Twitter, and Hawke wasn't going to sit idly by. He had already made the necessary arrangements to keep an eye on this executive from BlackRock.

The glass windows of the luxurious suite were all treated with special film, and even with his high-powered binoculars, Hawke couldn't make out anything inside the room.

Edward continued, "The Burbank Hotel has an underground parking garage with tight security. It will be challenging to track who has visited Douglas."

Seeing no fruitful outcome ahead, Hawke signaled for Edward to drive away. This newly acquired Cadillac was also bulletproof, but Edward noted that it felt like the steering wheel was off, raising concerns about the car's tuning.

He remarked, "Boss, that old Mercedes drove better."

Hawke waved his hand dismissively. "We slipped out quietly; we can't drive that car."

Edward glanced back at the Burbank Hotel. "This way?"

Hawke quietly responded, "For now, let's just keep track of his movements without drawing attention."

...

In Hollywood, at the Ackerman Outreach Center, Tim arrived in a Cadillac and noticed many people waiting for their meals. He gently honked, and Coulson came out and waved at him.

The two cars left the busy area in line and parked at an empty space along the roadside. Coulson quickly climbed into Tim's car and said, "I've got the people; they'll be here soon."

Tim looked towards the outreach center and noticed some medical vehicles pulling up. He asked, "Are you sure this will shake him up?"

"Of course," Coulson confidently assured him. "Since our first visit, I've come by almost every day with wine and food. I'm his last fan."

His confidence stemmed not just from those visits. He pulled out a small plastic bag. "Miller Collins lost his mind after losing his divorce case and has been homeless for a while now. He got hooked on these. He tried the high-purity stuff I gave him, and now he can't escape it."

"Nice work, buddy!" Tim praised.

Coulson's phone rang, and he quickly answered it. After a few exchanges, he opened the passenger door. "He's at the parking lot now. Let's go clean out the RV."

"Let's move." Tim waited for him to get out before he turned the car around, quickly heading back to the outreach center and arriving at the back parking lot.

...

Tim parked and saw a tow truck positioning itself in front of Miller Collins's dilapidated RV. A few municipal workers in yellow vests were negotiating with Miller, who was agitated and shouting, grabbing attention from passersby.

This place was no stranger to the homeless, and a large crowd of locals formed around the parking lot to watch. Several Mexicans who worked part-time as street informants even pulled out their phones, snapping photos of Miller and the scene.

Miller was no longer the star receiver for the San Diego Chargers; his life as a homeless man, combined with alcohol and drugs, had almost obliterated his once-strong physique.

Municipal workers led him aside, showing him legal documents as they prepared to tow away his only possession -- the RV that had seen better days and passed through many hands.

...

Coulson arrived just in time, parking his car and rushing over to Miller, engaging seriously with the municipal staff. However, he couldn't stop the tow truck from taking away the RV.

Worse still, the municipal workers demanded payment for overdue parking fines. Coulson stepped in to cover the fee for Miller.

Once the municipal staff and the tow truck left, Miller sat on the ground, his already weary face now devoid of all hope.

He glanced at Coulson, who held a bag, and resignedly said, "I can't pay you back."

Coulson retrieved a water bottle and handed it to him. "Forget about paying me back."

Miller, feeling like a mere shell of himself, opened the water bottle and took a sip. "Just go; don't come bother me. I'm not that receiver anymore."

"No, you've always been my favorite superstar; that hasn't changed," Coulson insisted. "You can recover; I believe in you."

He reached out to help Miller up. "You don't have a place right now. Why not stay with me for a few days?"

Miller shrugged indifferently as he followed Coulson.

...

They both got into the car, and Coulson drove towards the home he had already prepared in North Hollywood.

While driving, he asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

After a brief outburst, Miller's response was blank. "Just take it one day at a time."

That wasn't the state Coulson wanted for him. He passed an intersection and said purposefully, "You've moved past your issues with West Coast Studio. Let it go; get back on your feet..."

Sure enough, upon hearing West Coast Studio, a flicker of anger crossed Miller's blank face, and he exclaimed, "I never wronged those bastards, yet they set me up and ruined my reputation with that kind of stunt!"

Coulson followed up, "I checked that place you mentioned at West Coast Studio. The building on Fountain Street has been locked up tight; I haven't seen that guy you mentioned, what's his name again?"

The name of that bastard was etched in Miller's mind: "Hawke Osment!"

"Right, Hawke Osment." Coulson continued, "I heard a while back that Hawke Osment and West Coast Studio moved out earlier this year. Some people said he started that trendy social media site, Twitter."

He spoke casually, as if chatting with a friend. "I read in the newspaper not too long ago that Twitter now has over 30 million users, with the Silicon Valley companies valuing it at more than a billion. That bastard Hawke Osment got incredibly lucky and became a billionaire in no time."

Miller raised his head, his eyes filled with a newfound spark. "That bastard is going to be a billionaire?"

Coulson nodded vigorously. "That's what the papers say. Who would have thought that a paparazzi invading people's privacy would end up with such an opportunity?"

Miller fell silent, his head down, but the glimmer in his eyes turned into resentment.

He remembered vividly that he had never provoked Hawke Osment or his West Coast Studio, yet that bastard had schemed against him, causing his downfall in the way he enjoyed the most -- ruining his life.

To top it, he had collaborated with Fox Television to falsely accuse Miller of planning to silence him.

As a result, his connection with the old Dwarfs' Gang was wiped out by the LAPD, and he ended up in prison.

Miller was absolutely certain that his current situation was all thanks to Hawke Osment's machinations.

...

Coulson parked in North Hollywood, called Miller to get out, and entered a standalone house with a small yard next door.

Miller shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression dark.

The interior of the house was somewhat messy, but Coulson tidied up a bit, placing the bag on the coffee table. "Make yourself at home, grab a bite if you want."

Miller sniffed, seeming uncomfortable, and asked, "Do you have any more?"

Coulson sighed. "I'll go find something for you."

Before he left, he specifically cautioned, "There are many things I used for work lying around here, so don't mess with them. I do demolition work, and there might be some explosives I've left behind."

Feeling terrible, Miller waved his hand. "Relax, I won't touch your stuff."

Despite his words, once Coulson stepped out, Miller couldn't help but look around.

He soon stumbled upon some intriguing items on a shelf.

Though he had never used them, he recognized them from movies and TV -- tiny detonators.

When Coulson returned, Miller pointed at the detonators, curious, and asked, "What are these for?"

Coulson casually replied, "I'm a demolition expert and often do controlled demolitions. Sometimes I bring work home to study. These detonators have a small yield and won't pose any danger as long as they're not connected to C4."

He handed Miller a small plastic bag. "This is all I have."

Miller accepted it without hesitation and started enjoying them right away.

In a moment of euphoria, he asked Coulson a bunch of questions about detonators and C4, even following him to check out the C4 stored in the tool shed.

Later, under Miller's strong insistence, the two brought along the detonators and C4, headed to the wilderness, where they crafted some homemade bombs and blew up some fish in a valley.

This plastic explosive was nearly foolproof to use.

Even with Miller's mind corroded by drugs, he picked it up quickly.

Coulson had to go to work every day, so he left Miller with a cheap Toyota Corolla.

...

Miller found himself with a new objective, possessing just one thought in his mind:

He absolutely couldn't let that bastard who ruined him become a billionaire!

Miller found a flimsy reason to remember his enemy and get back on his feet, asking Coulson to gather all the information related to Hawke Osment.

Coulson gathered plenty of reports about Twitter, even providing some photographs.

Miller Collins almost etched Hawke's face into his memory.

...

One day, while having dinner together, Coulson mentioned something -- Hawke Osment was going to attend an event in Covina, a satellite city of Los Angeles.

Miller took note, quietly searched for Covina's location, and found out what was going to happen there.

He followed Coulson's method, dug out the stored C4 and detonators, and prepared some homemade bombs for delivery.

...

Hawke received an invitation from Brian Ferguson to visit Covina and see his governance achievements firsthand.

The newly elected mayor had delivered on several promises since taking office, earning high support from the citizens.

Before the election, Brian partnered with AT&T to bring fiber optics to Covina.

After taking office, he actively raised funds, renovating all the roads in Covina, including public streets in the plantation and processing plant areas, significantly improving the traffic conditions of the small satellite city.

The broadband internet and transportation upgrades also boosted the local citrus industry, giving Covina a refreshing new vibe.

*****

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